Special Sponsor
by CatChild1
Summary: This takes place after Pack o'Hunters. It's a one chapter story of how Kim is keeping her eye on our boys.


**Special Sponsor**

Glancing out of the small slit in the curtains the hand pushed back lightly, the rumbling Impala could be seen as well as heard pulling up in front of the motel door assigned to the two boys. The blue eyes watched intently as the hunters stepped out of the car, grabbed their gear from the trunk, and walked towards their door. The older of the two glanced at the motorcycle parked right outside the window, so the hand quickly let go of the curtain.

Dean noticed the black Ninja motorcycle in the parking space several down from his. It was shiny and had several strange long shaped packs attached in various places that seemed odd for that style of motorcycle but didn't appear they would hinder its speed or balance if packed properly. He then noticed the curtain move in the window of the room where the motorcycle was parked and frowned. _Maybe it was just someone who heard the car and was curious, _he thought to himself. The keycard slid in and out easily enough with a faint click, Dean opened the door and they both stepped in.

The broad smiled on the soft face spread up and caused a sparkle to appear in the blue eyes as they examined the contents being pulled out of a black backpack styled satchel. Holy water, rock salt filled shotgun shells, consecrated iron rounds, silver rounds, a folded empty block cloth bag with a draw string, and a small brown envelope. Nimble fingers latched the satchel and laid it casually on the table near the window of the room. Opening the bag, each item removed was then placed in to it, the draw string pulled tightly, and a quick knot tied.

Dean and Sam had been driving for the majority of the day to get to this area. The pattern found in their dad's journal after they received the text message with coordinates from him indicated the possibility of a ghost haunting in an old house. Every year on the anniversary of Missy Branson's murder, the ghost would appear and apparently murder someone if they were in the house. The house had been abandoned for a long time now, no one wanting to buy it even for the land. The city just let the house sit while they tried to decide what to do with it. Unfortunately, with typical political structures, red tape, and one mayor after another pushing off the problem and leaving it for the next mayor, the house was still standing.

Even though condemned signs hunt all over the house and warning signs were plastered all over the property, there was always someone who wanted to check out the haunted house. A newspaper clip from last year around this time showed the _accidental_ death of a school boy who was dared to go into the house on the anniversary of Missy's death as an initiation into a fraternity. The boy apparently fell down the stairs and broke his neck. Missy's death records indicate that she also accidentally fell down the stairs, but it was later suspected that her husband had pushed her down during a marital dispute. That was never proven though. The very next year, the husband accidentally fell down those same stairs.

They were exhausted and ready for some good sleep. The anniversary was tomorrow, so they needed as much rest as they could get before taking on the ghost. Hopefully it would just be a matter of getting over to the house and taking care of the bones that were buried in a small family plot in the rear of the property. They shouldn't even have to face the ghost at all if everything went right.

Dean went through their supplies as he pulled all the weapons out and prepared to start cleaning them. They were running low and needed to work on getting their next set of credit cards so they could get more supplies. It was going to be tight for the next few days and Dean might need to find a place to hustle some pool, not that the act would bother him any, just so they could get something to eat. But their lack of finances was going to hurt them most if they ran out of ammo and other supplies.

For the next few hours they did their typical routine of cleaning the weapons, eating fast food, showering, watching TV, and then finally drifting off to sleep around 2 AM as exhaustion finally took over.

Out of the satchel, the nimble fingers pulled out the device wired to a card. Picking up the black cloth bag, opening the door, and moving over to the door in front of the Impala, the card was carefully placed inside the reader for the boys' room. The soft click of the door unlocking was louder than wanted, but the handle was turned to keep the door unlocked. No sounds were heard from inside so the door was lightly pushed open. Keen ears listened to the soft inhale and exhale of each breath from each of the boys. Definitely sleep breaths; they were soft and not as frequent as when awake. Sliding easily into the room, the door was closed just as softly as it was opened. Cautiously and quietly moving to the table, the black bag was gently placed next to the laptop. Then, just as easily, the figure moved out of the room and back to the one two doors down.

It was around 5:30 AM when Dean and Sam were woken by the sounds of the motorcycle next door revving its engine loudly and then speeding out of the parking lot. "What the hell …" Dean grumbled as he glanced at the clock. Sam rolled over and sat up, "guess it's time to get started, eh?" "Hell no, go back to sleep," Dean snorted as he laid his head back down on the pillow and closed his eyes. Sam smiled and lay back on his pillow when his eye caught sight of the bag on the table.

"What the hell is that?" Sam asked as he sat back up.

Dean immediately shot up in the bed and looked in the same direction as Sam. Seeing the bag as well, he climbed out of bed and moved over towards it, Sam close on his heels.

"Where did that come from," Dean asked more to himself than to Sam, but was answered softly from behind, "I don't know, I didn't hear a thing after I went to sleep."

Dean looked over the knot and then opened it up. He let out a low whistle as he started pulling out the supplies. Sam moved around and began looking through them as well, "wow, Dean, this is a lot of ammo and I'm assuming these bottles are holy water." Dean pulled out he small envelop and opened it. Inside he found over a thousand dollars in cash and two credit cards in the names of Mitch and Robert Milston. The PIN numbers were placed on a small sticky note to each card as well as the words "$5000 credit limit."

"Wow," was all Dean said as he passed the Robert Milston card over to Sam.

"Maybe it was dad?" Sam thought aloud.

Dean just shrugged, "Why would he sneak in the room and not say anything to us? I mean, I know dad can sneak around, but I didn't think I was sleeping that heavily."

"Well, do we want to look this gift horse in the mouth or just smile and use what we've been given," Sam smiled lightly, but Dean could tell by the look in his eyes that he wasn't sure.

Dean gave him his most reassuring smirk, "never turn down free stuff, especially," he waved the cash, "in the form of cash."

They got dressed and headed out of the motel to get some breakfast. Once in the diner, Dean pulled out a small map of the town that he'd picked up when they'd filled the car with gas the previous day. "Ok, here's where the house is," Dean pointed to it as he slid the map closer to Sam, "I figure we can just pop over there, take care of the bones, and be back for a nice lunch and then afternoon nap," Dean smirked.

Glancing up towards the road in front of the diner, Dean noticed the black motorcycle at the gas station across the way. The rider was bent low and was wearing an all black outfit that appeared to be leather; even the helmet was black with a tinted visor. Sam looked out the window following Dean's gaze as the rider pulled out of the station and sped off down the road.

The trip to the house was quiet, except for the typical blare of Metallica and Dean tapping on the steering wheel. They found the plot in the back of the house just as the city records described. It took little effort to dig up the grave, salt the bones, and set the fire. They watched it burn and make sure they were completely destroyed before returning the dirt to the hole.

"Should we go inside just to make sure?" Sam asked as he stepped to the passenger side of the door.

"Only way to be sure is to come back later this afternoon at her time of death, which was 3:14." Dean glanced around at the house then shrugged, "but it's better to be safe than sorry."

They climbed into the car and Dean started the engine. As he put it into reverse in order to turn the car around he glanced in his rear view mirror. Driving around the corner of the drive and out of sight he was sure he'd seen that black motorcycle. It moved out of sight too fast so he couldn't be sure. He turned the car around so fast Sam had to hang on tight, "what's wrong?"

"I think I saw something, but I'm not sure," Dean pulled down the driveway faster than Sam was comfortable with, but he didn't say anything.

By the time they got to the end of the drive and pulled out onto the street, there was no sign of any other vehicles.

As they headed back into town Sam decided he wanted to do some additional checking about the house and the woman, "drop me off at the library."

"Why? Geek boy missing his second home?" Dean chuckled lightly.

Sam smiled, "no, I just want to make sure we've got everything covered and maybe even do some research on possibilities for our next job. Since our motel room doesn't have Internet access."

Dean complied and pulled into the town's library, "want me to join you?"

"You don't really want to do that, now do you?" Sam smiled at the hurt look that Dean tried to fake but failed miserably, "no, not really."

"Pick me up in a couple of hours?"

"Sure," Dean watched Sam enter the library before returning to the motel.

As Dean pulled into the motel parking lot he saw the black motorcycle in the same parking space as the previous night. The curtains were drawn and there didn't appear to be any movement. Curiosity getting the better of him, he went to the door and knocked softly. Thinking up a story about being fascinated by motorcycles as an excuse he waited a moment before knocking softly again. It was then he noticed the door was not closed all the way and it shifted slightly with his second knock.

He slowly pushed the door open a little, the room was completely dark. "Hello," he said softly as he stepped to the doorway and tried to look in the room.

He started to close the door and just come back later, but something felt weird, so he stepped into the room and again said, "Hello?"

The light switch was inconveniently placed on the wall on the other side of the door, so he stepped in farther to close the door and turn it on.

As he did step in, the door suddenly shut and he could see the form of someone in the dark in front of him. There was so little light coming through the thick curtains he couldn't make out anything other than a vague shape. It moved towards him so he tried to hold up his hands, backing up quickly, and trying to talk his way out of this, "hey, hey, I'm sorry … the door was open and …"

The figured continue to move towards him so, scowling, he stood his ground. Holding one hand up he snapped, "stop!" Surprisingly it did. At least for a second, but as he relaxed and dropped his hand, inhaling to say thing else, the figure move in closer and quickly.

Dean snapped "stop" again but this time threw a simple punch to what he hoped was the figure's nose. He didn't have a sensation that this was a spirit or demon, but this whole situation bothered him and he wanted to get out of the room quickly.

His light punch was caught, his wrist turned, arm twisted causing him to turn his back partially to the figure, then his arm was behind his back uncomfortably in such a swift smooth move that it surprised him. He was familiar with the move and quickly moved himself to get out of the pin. Who ever this was, he was pissed off now and they were going to know it.

Unfortunately, things were not going quite as he planned. It was dark and this person knew all the same moves as him and seemed to be able to see in the dark better than him.

It was getting ridiculous now. He was getting tired and by the slightly heavy breathing of the person he was fighting, he wasn't the only one. He was pretty sure he'd landed several good blows to the head and body of his assailant, but he'd received the same. He didn't know how he lost any advantage he might have had, but he ended up on the floor between the two beds on his back.

He was slightly winded and inhaled deeply as he prepared for his next move or to take the next punch. The figure was straddling him and leaned over holding his wrists next to his head. After all this fighting, the position surprised him and he knew that he could easily get out of this fragile hold. He frowned and stiffened, preparing to roll, when person leaned into his face. For some reason, instead of immediately head-butting, he hesitated and was rewarded with soft lips and warm panting that tested his jaw, chin, and then finally rested on his lips.

Now he was really confused, but the grip on his wrists lightened as the kiss became stronger. He let his hands follow the arms to the body and used his sense of touch to provide the image of the woman on him that he could not get with his eyes. Her sexual aggression fueled him, he was not use to this and it excited him. Their bodies moved and rocked in unison on the floor and they removed each other's clothing with experienced and nimble fingers.

For well over an hour they brought each other to multiple peeks of ecstasy in the dark room. Sweat dripped from their skin and her scent was not perfumed by strangely intoxicating. They lay next to each other, their breath slowing as they rested. Neither one had said a thing to each other the entire time. The only sounds heard were the soft moans of pleasure. Even now as they lay in each others arms, they said nothing.

Dean's phone rang from the pocket of his pants somewhere on the floor. Before he even started to move to pick it up, she rolled away and walked into the bathroom, closing the door and locking it with a soft click before she turned on the light. Dean struggled to follow the sound in the dark, until he found the phone. It was Sam.

"Hey Dean, I'm ready for you to come pick me up."

"Uhhh … ok, I'll be there in about 15 minutes."

Dean made his way to the wall and flipped the switch for the light. Now that he could see, he took in the contents of the room. Other than their clothes on the floor, it appeared empty. He didn't see any luggage or clothing other than the leather outfit and undergarments that were on the floor. He wanted to say something, to hear her voice, so he stepped by the door into the bathroom area, "I have to go for a little bit. But I'll be back in about 30 minutes. Maybe we can …" he let his voice trail off. What exactly did he want? Conversation? More sex? He had a strange feeling and was almost afraid to leave.

He heard her hum "MmmmHhmmm" right before the water to the shower turned on.

He frowned slightly, but finished getting dressed and left to pick up Sam.

It didn't take him long to get to and from the library. He wasn't surprised, but when he pulled in and parked in front of their door, the black motorcycle was gone. There was a small note stuck to their door, which Sam pulled off and read while Dean unlocked and opened the door.

"Dean. Enjoy the supplies and thanks for the workout."

Sam looked at Dean with a slight smile on his face and stuck the note onto his shoulder, "well I know what you were up to while I was researching."

"Shut up."

They verified that the ghost was gone and pointed the Impala towards their next job. As Dean headed up the ramp to the Interstate, he glanced in the rear view mirror and watched as the black motorcycle drove past the ramp slowly and then flew quickly down the road and out of sight. "Dean!" Sam brought his attention back to the road as he was drifting towards the shoulder barrier. Dean coughed and did another quick check in the mirror, but it revealed nothing, "sorry about that." Sam just shook his head.

The wind blew against her body as she crouched close to the motorcycle. She followed at a safe distance, then sped up and headed towards home as the Impala turned onto the ramp. She glanced at its tail lights as she passed by and smiled lightly to herself. Father Marcus would probably be upset that she gave those supplies and cash to them, but Kim didn't care. She'd run enough jobs and killed enough spooks for them that they'd just have to forgive her every now and again for her indiscretions.

end 


End file.
